Life Goes On
by WelcomeToTheMindPalace
Summary: My sad attempt at a Firefly fanfic. Post-Serenity *MAJOR SPOILERS* Established Simon/Kaylee, Malnara undertones, please read & review Rated T because I'm paranoid Very first fic ever, please be nice...ish, although constructive criticism is welcome!


Little by little they rebuilt Serenity. They found ways to keep busy, trying to forget the holes in their heart shaped like the 4 graves on the hilltop. Some things you never forget, though. When they accepted that the pain was there to stay, they vowed never to forget, to memorialize them in memory.

Mal never stopped blaming himself for their deaths. He still acted the same. He was calm and collected, he led his crew with the strength and intelligence and shrewdness he always had. He patched the holes in his heart with leather and tried his best to stay strong for their sake. But the days came when he felt their losses the strongest. When he saw Shepherd's empty place at the table, or walked by the cockpit and saw Wash's dinosaur toys in the pilot's place, and something unnamable inside him hurt anew. The same guilt and pain and hollowness that had washed over him, in the early days after Miranda, whenever he glanced at Zoe, until he learned to channel everything into work, promising he would never ever forget. Malcolm Reynolds didn't cry, but when these times happened he would swear and wheel around very quickly and stalk off to go spar or sulk or sleep, anything to distract him from the emptiness. These times were rare, however. Mostly Mal did his best to toughen himself to the pain, to rebuild the lives of his crew. Mostly he tried (and failed) to stop the thoughts of a certain dark-eyed companion. Sleep wasn't that bad, he thought. It was easier than facing his feelings, and when he closed his eyes there was always the chance she would be waiting for him in his dreams.

Zoe stayed strong, through it all. She kept moving forward, but she was never the same. No one saw how much it hurt, every single day. Zoe was like that. No one, not even the Captain, had ever been able to tell what she was feeling. The only person who'd ever been able to read her was Wash. But without her husband by her side, there was no one left to decipher the code in the stiffening of her spine, the tightening of her mouth, the flutter of her hands. There were mornings when she shot awake, shaking from nightmares, afraid to cry out, knowing his arms weren't there to comfort her. There were the days she forced herself out of bed, only to find herself petrified by new nightmares, terrified when she found she was beginning to forget the exact blue of his eyes or the depth of his laugh. On more than one occasion Kaylee found her sitting slumped over, collapsed and broken but dry-eyed, in the engine room, watching a video of him on repeat, trying to catch the wry curve of his smile, the blond glint of his smile, the charm and wit and boundless energy that brought his body alive. She slept with his Hawaiian shirt some nights, trying to catch his scent in dream, knowing the bone-crushingness that came with daybreak. Waking up was the hardest part. She never would grow used to the moment before remembering, reaching out to find emptiness on the other side of the bed, the body-wracking pain that washed over her when reality came crashing down. The crew reminded her why she kept on living. She saw Jayne struggling to hammer steel over his heart, drowning his sorrows in alcohol when he failed to fix his crewmembers. She saw stolen glances and unspoken words hanging heavy between Mal and Inara, waiting for one of them to break down the walls of insults and sexual tension and admit what they'd been feeling all along. She saw Simon and Kaylee seeking refuge in each other's arms. She still saw Wash everywhere. Often Mal found her in the cockpit, surrounded by the plastic dinosaur toys and palm trees he'd loved so much. Gathering dust, abandoned but not forgotten. She liked to look out into the great expanse of space and find the blue of his eyes mixed in with the neverending blackness. There was not a time she didn't look out the window and find his name traced among the stars. The crew gave her distance and allowed her to mourn. Mal watched over her from afar. They were veterans of war together, and now Zoe was the veteran of a new war, one that ravaged her heart and left her missing a piece of herself. She still loved Wash. She always would. They knew what it was to miss him. They'd loved him too, after all. They always would. But no one but Wash had ever been able to break down the walls around this terse, matter-of-fact woman. They knew she would survive, although she'd never be the same. His loss had broken a part of her permanently. With time, Zoe would find things to smile about. She'd start singing in the shower again, albeit quietly. She never fell out of love with the silly, charming, enigmatic, brilliant man who'd stolen her heart with his pineapple shirts and witty one-liners and mighty dinosaur toys. She'd never be fully alright again, although she would live to be fully alive. Nothing could fix what had been lost. He was the great love of her life, after all. She'd lost her better half, and he was never coming back. She never stopped finding his name in the stars, though.

Simon and Kaylee lived on. He continued to heal people, knowing he could never make up for those that had been lost. He was thankful daily that River and Kaylee had been spared. He found the things that made him happy, a new life aboard Serenity. He'd always wanted to save people. Now the graves of his friends gave him a reason. She retained her bubbly personality, her sense of wonder at the small things in life. She found solace in Simon, saw the strength in Inara's eyes, the love Mal carried in his rough hands, Zoe's insomnia and Jayne's hidden pain. He missed Shepherd and Wash all the same. The world was just as shiny as always to Kaylee, perhaps a little tarnished by sadness. She was haunted by memories and the taste of strawberries. She heard Wash's laugh in the humming of the engine. She woke up screaming from nightmares, but Simon's arms were there to comfort her. And eventually his lips. Their scents clung to each other, reminding them of hope. That you can't stop living because others are gone. There was not a night they didn't go to bed to the scent of engine oil and wild roses, antiseptic and lemon soap. To them it smelled like love.

River blossomed on Serenity. The crew protected her, accepted this oddball genius girl-child. Simon's sister, Kaylee's friend, Jayne's pest, Mal's prodigy, the most dangerous little girl in the world. When the flashbacks came and rocked her body Simon was there to hug her tight and whisper comfort and lullabies until the moments were over. They accepted that just because something was scarred doesn't mean it was broken. They knew River wasn't broken, and they would never allow her to break. They all found a place in themselves to love this wild young girl. Kaylee braided her hair and found the beauty in this messed-up prodigy. Jayne feigned annoyance when she followed him, secretly covering the world in leather so she wouldn't need a pair of shoes. Zoe taught her to fight. Inara watched her blossom into her own genius and smiled. Mal taught her to fly, sat with her in the cockpit silhouetted by a neverending field of stars. He taught her how to read Serenity like she read people, with love. Simon protected her, as big brothers do. He always would. He always took care of her. River Tam was many things—genius, reader, sister, fighter, freak…but above all she was a girl who was not yet a woman; lonely and brilliant and scarred and far too smart for her own good, but loved by the crew of a ship she came to love. River stayed River. She found new hiding places to nap. She tried to forget the horrors she'd endured and carved out a new life for herself and Simon aboard Serenity. She began to play with Wash's dinosaur toys, handling them with a quiet sort of reverence. Somehow she knew that stegosaur had always been his favorite. The plastic dinosaurs stopped collecting dust, and Zoe was glad. She read the Shepherd's Bible, and this time she didn't try to "fix" it. The crew let her bloom wild and brilliant and quiet and strange. They wouldn't let her be anything but herself. The most dangerous little girl in the 'verse, flying a lone firefly through the blur of stars.

Jayne was the same, at least on the outside. Foulmouthed, dirty, hulking Jayne with a heart of gold behind the guns and rage and funny hats. Momma's boy. He'd loved Wash and Shep, too, although he'd never admit it. He hated to see the pain Zoe tried not to show, the slump of Mal's figure, Inara's lovely eyes puffy and red from crying. He managed to (almost) get past his problems with River and, in his own indeterminable style, began to care for her. He stomped about the ship, with his insults and curses and odd fondness for everything and everyone aboard Serenity. He told bawdy jokes and swore and tried his best to mend his and their hearts. He learned to survive, because surviving is what Jayne Cobb did best.

Inara stayed with Serenity. She claimed it was to prevent Mal from doing anything stupid, though in reality it was to ensure he would. She held on to her legendary beauty and barbed wit. She kept an eye on Kaylee and Zoe, ignoring the unspoken words and trying to fill the sadness on Serenity with her glowing smile. She irritated the hell out of Mal, until she taught him how to laugh again. And she did her best (and failed) to stop the thoughts of a certain blue-eyed captain. But love is funny. They say love ends when one of you dies, but love never ends. Zoe was living proof of that. Love begins. In stolen glances, the smell of engine oil and lemon soap, wild roses and antiseptic. Love was Jayne and Vera; it was a brother protecting his sister; it was dinosaur toys and the bulky metallic shape of a Firefly carved out against the black. Love is neverending and infinite, even when it ends up engraved in stone and holograph on a hilltop grave. Love can make you immortal. And sometimes, in the case of the captain and the whore, love doesn't happen at first. It sneaks up on you. 


End file.
